i’m tired of what i have been doing with ink brush painting.
yesterday i used some leftover ink to make random panels on a sheet of paper.
today i pulled a comic out of my ass…
and then i ended up spilling a bunch of black ink
so in the spirit of sustainability and not wasting and taking lemons & making lemonade,
i did a quick sketch using the spilled ink…which is the inking showcased at the top of today’s blog.
full moon long shadows.
i like it.
i like my art.
i like being me.
so there, world of no recognition…or very little recognition. i like my stuff. i know i am good. i don’t need your fucking “likes” (but, you know, they are nice)
on a personal note
because it has been too long without me over-sharing…
i had half-invited dusty to live here–as a paying lodger…but now i am re-thinking that. i mean, it sounds like a recipe for disaster.
he just won’t grow up.
and it’s not like i am so good at being a grown up…but i manage.
meanwhile, he pays a minimal child support…occasionally.
he has a crap job because he won’t bother looking for another one.
he lives with his crap-ass mom because he won’t bother finding his own place–nor does he have the money to do so.
and he has a crappy car that does not run because he just stored it in a garage for seven years while he made me give him rides.
and now he is dependent on him mom for rides.
and i keep thinking…why?
why won’t he just get up off his ass and do something?
well, i guess he’s just waiting for me to pick him up again.
social media sucks ass.
for us super sensitive
sometimes i hate
so so so much
i feel like a stupid tool
everyone hates me
why do i do this
this is the third inking i have done today.
i am about to post it on facebook. in that stupid group i am in. and it will get zero “likes” as have the other two today.
my art doesn’t suck that bad.
why can’t i get a “like”….
and why do i care?
fuck a duck
i am ready to just quit facebook. a fucking social media site should not be able to cause me this kind of torment.
i know it’s stupid.
yet i am tormented.
i am going to keep doing inktober.
i am going to keep doing art.
i am going to keep practicing my ink brush painting (right now i am opening the book the photo ark to a random page and painting it.)
and! and–i am going to get back to my comics. my moses jones and all the others.
it’s been too long.
so fuck you, facebook. even if you hate my art. i love my art.
life is too short
to tolerate feelings of hate
comments of hate
overt or covert
directed at women, people of color,
homosexuals, transgendered people,
people with religious differences, immigrants,
or anyone else who is just trying to live their life
in idle conversation
in heated arguement
comments on social media
i will not tolerate any of it
(i did the above comics in early 2016 when people were getting hurt at his rallies…i wish they could have been filed away and that i never had reason to share them again. i wish we had stopped this when it was just starting to crawl out from under its rock….)
i am quick to burn a bridge. i barely speak to my parents who are abusive, narcissistic, and destructive. i liberally use the “unfriend” option on facebook. i recently told my younger sister–my polar opposite–who voted for trump because he was “god’s choice” who is a total racist despite (??) adopting a black son who loves to tell everyone else how to live their lives who grew up poor but hates poor people who once told me, “don’t vote for so&so because he is for gay rights,” thereby bursting my bubble where i believed everyone has rights….
i stopped talking to her when she voted for trump and have since let her know that i have no time for her hypocrisy–via a letter she sent me which i returned unopened because i knew already what i would find inside….
so it’s difficult & confusing for me to see the posts of friends on facebook who engage with their racist friends–nicely & with tolerance. and then i wonder–are they better than me? or is their friendliness flawed? at first i thought they must be better people than me. kind to those who are evil or whatever. then i thought, “no. if we treat these motherfuckers with kid gloves–they will never realize they are motherfuckers.”
this helped…i saw this on facebook today:
so i am going to keep on burning my bridges.
life is too short.
so i am applying for this award that goes to mothers who write &/or draw. there are a bunch of categories, but they encourage you to only enter in one. i have been agonizing over whether i should go with the graphic novel category and enter moses jones or if i should enter in the drawing category and just showcase my ink stain whimsy series (among other drawings i feel strongly about.)
seriously, it has been agonizing.
last night i was sure that i could write a graphic novel to go with my ink stain whimsy series and enter it & mojo in the graphic novel category…. and maybe i could. and maybe i will! but not right now. i started to. split into a few different directions. saw images in my head i knew i could not at this time create.
finally, i started to physically go through all of my pages of moses jones and all of my ink stains.
reading moses jones had a much stronger pull for me than my inkstains.
i love my ink stains. they are totally a relaxing and fun art to do.
but graphic novels…
how i love my graphic novels.
i even dug through some of my other comics. weener coopand just me & my lizard brain:
man, i love comics & graphic novels.
so i am going to convince myself that the judges will see the beauty i see in moses jones and award me a greatly needed cash prize.
i haven’t done many inkings lately with all the other work i have been doing just by surviving my every day. i miss doing art.
however, when i went looking through my old moses jones pages, i was horrified by my art. i was all like, “who reads this atrocity?” (well…no one other than my handful of dedicated fans [i love you]) but that doesn’t mean i shouldn’t try to do better!
before my several months of doing inkings & neglecting comics, i was already frustrated with the style moses jones was starting to take on. i prefer the earlier pages. i super prefer the original moses jones prototype drawings.
so after purchasing a wooden katana (technically a bokken–used for training) at an olde english faire, i felt compelled to do some sketches of some of the characters from moses jones.
it felt good to sketch her again. and to do it roughly. no blue pencil…just ink.
i mean, i guess i just continue the story but alter the art?
or start a new chapter over again since i am only a bit into the new episode & completely forgot that i left lucy in labor at the end of episode two?
i need to start a new chapter. start over–ish.
but first! i need to work more on this project i am illustrating for a very cool woman i know. i have been playing around with that character as well. this is what she will look like:
i’m at a crossroads
to the crap i know
the familiar crap
the daily rejections
left or right
does it even matter?
to unfamiliar crap
& all new rejection
which way do i go
when all i want
is to be heard
to be seen
to not just be their mirror
for their warped soul
eyes that only seek out
for the benefit of seeing
which way do i go…
can i unfold my wings now
can i choose to fly
not left or right
up & away?
so i’m still trying to do the internet dating thing…though i have deleted my profile at least 3 times & started over….
i’ve made dates & broken them.
i’ve been made fun of by men who think they’re smarter than me.
i’ve been asked to be a submissive (told him i can’t do what i’m told to save my life)
i’ve been asked to be a dominant (never responded because i was so creeped out by this guy)
i started just messaging guys who had interesting or intriguing or message-worthy profiles. some actually messaged back. one seems pretty cool….
dusty seems to think we are in a relationship. or desperately wants to be in a relationship with me? that’s the way it goes with dusty. he only wants me when i don’t want him. and i used to only want him when he wanted me…but then i realized that i don’t need to be rejected to feel loved. funny that.
so he is always asking to “talk” to me about something. after how many years of marriage of my begging him to talk to me. after i finally divorced him. after he tried to hurt me with other women. after i gave him an ultimatum and he chose option b….
now he wants to talk.
all the time.
i haven’t told him i am trying to re-enter the dating pool. i’m not sure it’s any of his business. i really don’t think it is. i have been clear with him…if he chooses not to listen to me–still!–is that my fault?
so today i dug out the test i wrote back in my late twenties.
no one ever passed it.
i eventually gave up & got married anyway.
i dug out the comic i wrote about the test i made and the fact that i never followed through with it….
which made me miss writing comics a lot more than it made me miss dating….
as i was loading up the inkstain for this inking, i saw several different figures i did not see when i did this drawing. i kind of want to go back & do it with what i see in the ink now. that’s what i get for working while watching doctor who while minions crawl all over me.
i dunno. i’m not sure i like this one. i’m not sure what it is about. if it is about anything. are my pictures really ever about anything? or are they about everything? i draw what i see & what i feel.
but overall, i really do like my work. i really do. i was looking to see what it would look like on t-shirts & mugs…on leggings. i think my ink would be cool on leggings.
and, of course, it would look nice hanging on walls. i have mine hanging all around me. my favorites…or ones with elements that i want to use more. inspirations.
also! my nephews read my moses jones zines & now want to be part of the story. i was like, “what the hell…i can do that.” maybe that’s how i can make money. write personal graphic novels for people. ha! let people star in their own comic.
it didn’t work out so well for my exhusband #2. he wanted to be in moses jones, and that is how dusty was born. i didn’t plan to make him into a “bad guy” or “dead-beat dad” (as one comic review labeled him.) i wrote & drew what i felt, and it turned my ex into dusty knickers.
he will never forgive me for it, either.
how is that going, you ask?
though i am still struggling with doing it all on my own, i have not once regretted asking him to leave. i do not want him back. he wheedles and manipulates and tries to wiggle back in, but i am so tough i won’t even go to eat culver’s with him. yes. you heard me. i turn down free culver’s so that i do not have to interact with my ex. that, my friends, is a strength i have not felt in years.
yay for me.